Child's Play [Text] [Reboot]

Noted for the future.



I stand on the beach, admiring the way the morning sunlight glints reddish-gold off muddy water. For once, the clouds have parted, chased off by some unseen wind. But right now the air is quiet and still and heavy, as if waiting for something to happen. Unable to be still, I pick up two rocks from the ground nearby, absentmindedly juggling them back and forth.

I think to myself, I need a name. I'm sick of being called "Daughter" or "Sister" or "You." The next sounds I hear will be mine, what I call myself from now on. Maybe I’ll even get my brother to use it. I’ll tell Mother, the next time she visits. I hope she’ll be proud.

I’m alone, as usual. Brother is off somewhere, and I’m betting he’s up in the mountains. The biggest volcano is smoking faintly, and he’s probably hoping for an eruption. Meanwhile I wait, juggling my rocks. The spiral patterns they make around each other grow more and more intricate, suspended in the air, until finally in a moment of distraction I let them touch. “Am-bot!” I hear as they clack together, and a moment later the wind sighs “Kuaaaaan.” That’s the first time the air has moved all morning, and combined with the rocks I take it as a sign. Ambot Kuan. I’ve never heard a name before, so I have no idea if this is a respectable one, but it’ll do for now.

I let the rocks drop to the ground again, no longer needed. They join their fellows on the beach. The rocks get smaller and smaller as they get closer to the shore, I’ve noticed. The ones at the tide line are barely even pebbles anymore, more like grains worn to smoothness by the constant lapping of the water. I pick up a handful and let it slide down through my grasp, marveling at the way it’s almost a powder. Maybe someday the rocks will get ground down even further and the whole beach will be made of this stuff.

I wish it would happen now. I wish I could just go to sleep and drift dreamlessly like I did when I was really little, but I've been too restless lately. After analyzing the rocks, I'm bored again. I need something to do.

I nestle inside my dome of rocks and listen as the storm approaches. A little bit of rain never bothered anyone, but I’m more worried about the tide coming in. As the sun sets, the moon rises. The gargantuan orb hangs over the horizon, close enough that I can see every mountain and crater clearly. It looks a lot like my own world, but much drier. I’d like to pay it a visit sometime. But as pretty as it is, the moon always brings the water. It starts with a gentle lapping of wavelets against the edges of my rock dome, but quickly grows more aggressive. Water starts seeping through the cracks between the rocks, rapidly filling the inside of my hiding place. I don’t mind, at first. The water is pleasantly cool after the air’s heavy heat. But then the waves start impacting with force, cracking against the walls with such force that I have to push back against them to prevent them from breaking. After a few minutes of this, I admit defeat. There’s no way my dome would stand if I leave it here at the mercy of the ocean. So instead, still inside it, I slowly lift the entire thing off the ground.

The dome starts to rise up into the air, each rock still in the same configuration. I carefully raise it above the surface of the water, then high enough to clear the cliffs that mark the boundary of my cove. I’m not quite sure what to do with the dome, but I decide to take it over next to some of my other projects for now. I skim over the surface of the earth, excited to see how my other creations are doing. I have a sculpture made of granite, raised and carved from the bedrock into a towering whorl of curves and spirals. I’ve added in veins of iron and copper, minerals extracted from an underground mining expedition that took me all the way across the island. And, just a few days ago, I dug out a pit to collect rainwater, and covered it over with a structure made of clay to shade it from the sun. I wanted to see how fresh water was different than salt water, especially over a long time, but every other pond I’d seen would eventually evaporate or drain into the ocean.

The rock dome isn’t very original by these standards, but I want to keep it anyway. As I get closer, carrying the rocks begins to feel more natural. I have a good memory, and the longer I carry the dome the more I’m aware of every rock’s location within the greater whole. I experiment with loosening the ties that bind them together, letting the rocks move farther away and then closer again. The dome breaks down into a whirl of pebbles, still suspended in the air. I let them fall to the ground like meteors, then grab them back up again and re-form the dome just as it was before. Even if the dome breaks, I have it memorized now. Nothing can ever be lost as long as I can remember how it was before.

This thought is reassuring, but it doesn’t fully erase the hurt of what I see as I fly over my little compound. I stop short in the air, every rock in my dome vibrating angrily at the sight beneath me. The sculpture is broken, shattered into a million tiny glittering pieces. Some parts are erased down to the atomic level, while others have been left relatively whole as if to taunt me with the laziness of this casual destruction. My clay shelter, which had hardened in the sun so beautifully, is similarly ruined. At least the destroyer has overlooked my little pond of water, now open to the sky and reflecting moonlight off its still surface.

There’s only one other person on this Mother-forsaken island who could have done this, but the culprit is nowhere to be found. What should I do now? I could look for Brother and give him a piece of my mind, or get started trying to rebuild, or, or…. I sink to the ground with my dome in tow, weighed down by anger and indecision.

My brother hovers in front of me, radiating smugness. I hold my ground and try my best to look unamused, though it’s rather difficult to emote since I can’t change my appearance to show my displeasure. I settle for picking up the biggest rock from my dome - still standing nearby - and brandishing it threateningly at him.

“What are you gonna do, throw that at me?” He teases. “You know that wouldn’t do anything.”


“No,” I counter, “But I know it was you that ruined my tower. I’m just showing you that I won’t stand for it! That’s just not okay.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” He whines. “I got bored waiting for the volcano, and it wouldn’t erupt even when I tried to make it. Then I came down here and you’re doing weird things to the planet. Father made it this way for a reason, so leave it alone! Besides, your sculpture looked stupid, Sister.” He punctuates that profound, classy statement by gathering some of the rain and spitting it in my general direction.

“I get bored just like you,” I say. “But I like doing things with my time instead of just wrecking everything. And do you hear how stupid you’re sounding? You’re so great at doing one thing and saying another that there should be a special word just for you. You say I’m messing with the planet, but you’re the one who caused that earthquake last time!”



“That would have happened anyway,” he says, restlessly turning in a circle. He can’t sit still, that one. “I was just speeding it up a little. But the land and the sea are never going to get up and dance like you want them to.”

“I don’t care what would or wouldn’t happen!” I yell, reaching my breaking point. “But the next time you break one of my things, I’ll make you pay for it! I’ll -“ And here I pause for a second, having trouble coming up with a suitable threat. The problem is, Brother doesn’t really care about anything, not the way I do. He has nothing I can break, or ruin. He gets all his satisfaction from being the one doing the breaking, from causing chaos and disorder and general misery. He likes forces of nature, like the volcano or the storm or the cold clear vacuum of space where neither of us are allowed to go. How do you threaten someone like that? Or should I change tack and say something else to him?

At least post a link to the eagle time forum before you do.